CHAPTER 169: BLACK MARKET [1]

"A merchant must always understand the flow of money."

It was a phrase Amelia Frost had grown up hearing again and again.

And so, even now, her descent down a rough, rocky path—utterly unsuited to her fine dress—was because of that very principle.

"I wish to inquire about your name," said the guard at the entrance.

"Amelia Frost," she replied calmly. "Do you need me to say more?"

"Welcome, Miss Frost. Please, step inside."

With a deep rumble, the massive stone gate split open, revealing the hidden interior.

The black market.

Not the kind of shady bazaar commoners whispered about, but one where nobles themselves came to trade what couldn’t be touched in daylight.

Amelia’s heels clicked against the stone as she stepped forward, her eyes narrowing slightly at the scale of it.

"...It’s bigger than I imagined."

"Amelia! You’re here already!"

She turned at the familiar voice. Alice had arrived as well—pushed here by her father’s will, just like her.

At least this time, that irritating demon wasn’t lurking around. The thought made Amelia’s lips curve slightly.

"It’s your first time in the black market, isn’t it?" Amelia asked with a practiced smile, ready to play the role of guide. She could already picture herself earning Alice’s favor, impressing her with knowledge and charm.

But Alice wasn’t even looking at her.

"Yes, it is," Alice said softly, her gaze wandering across the bustling market stalls. "I never realized... there were so many people who couldn’t live inside the city."

Her voice carried a quiet shock.

Amelia blinked. That wasn’t the kind of reaction she expected.

For Alice, this visit wasn’t about rare treasures or backroom deals. It was something entirely different.

Her father’s words echoed in her memory:

"As a ruler, you must understand the people you’re responsible for. Patrols may keep the city safe, but what about those outside its walls?"

Settlers. Nomads. Outcasts who had built their lives in this underground market. People who received no protection from the city, no benefit from its walls.

Alice had come here to see them with her own eyes. And what she found was more than she had ever imagined.

"...Why don’t these people live within the city?" she whispered.

For her, it was a genuine question. She couldn’t understand it.

Especially here in the north, where danger pressed on every side—not just demons, but monsters roaming freely beyond the walls.

Her brow furrowed, not in disgust, but in confusion and concern.

Amelia, watching her, realized they were here for very different reasons.

Alice’s eyes lingered on the crowd—merchants shouting their wares, children tugging at their mothers’ skirts, mercenaries bargaining with hunters over monster pelts. The air was thick with smoke, sweat, and the faint tang of blood.

"...They live like this every day?" Alice murmured, almost to herself.

Her gaze caught a boy about her age, struggling to carry a sack twice his size. His arms trembled, knees buckling, yet no one stopped to help. He gritted his teeth and pressed forward, disappearing into the maze of stalls.

Something tugged at her chest.

"These people... are they really so different from us?" she asked. "They bleed, they laugh, they eat... yet they live outside our walls, unprotected. Why should a line of stone decide who’s safe and who isn’t?"

Amelia stiffened. To her, this was nothing more than a market, a place where power and money exchanged hands.

She had thought Alice would be fascinated by the rare goods, the secret auctions, the treasures hidden away. But instead—Alice’s eyes were only on the people.

"Not everyone deserves to live inside the city," Amelia said quickly, trying to sound confident. "Rules exist for a reason. Some can’t afford the taxes. Some refuse the order of noble houses. They’re outsiders, and outsiders live as they choose."

But Alice shook her head.

"No... it’s not that simple." Her voice was calm, but firm. "If we leave them out here, aren’t we simply abandoning them to die? When monsters attack, when demons raid... they’re the first to be slaughtered. Isn’t the role of a ruler to prevent that?"

Her words carried none of Amelia’s practiced poise, yet they held a weight that silenced her.

Amelia bit her lip, forcing a smile. "Don’t sympathize with them too much. Most of them don’t pay taxes because they choose not to, not because they can’t."

"...What?"

Alice’s expression hardened, her bright eyes dimming with disbelief.

Amelia sighed inwardly. It might have been better if her noble lady had remained ignorant of such ugliness. But Alice’s surprise wasn’t unexpected—human greed had a way of disappointing even the kindest hearts.

Suppressing her regret, Amelia leaned closer, lowering her voice into a gentle whisper.

"If you live outside the city walls, the taxes are halved. For people barely scraping by, that difference means everything."

It was a matter of priorities—safety in the city at a higher cost, or more freedom and risk beyond the walls.

Alice frowned. "I still don’t understand why anyone would make that choice."

"Who knows," Amelia murmured. "Maybe it’s because demon attacks have been rarer lately. The Drazroth Empire hasn’t invaded the northern borders as often these past few years."

Alice shook her head. "Why bother living inside the city walls at all, then?"

Amelia’s sharp hearing had caught countless snippets of conversation before:

In the black market, you can live well enough. There are more chances to make money. And in the city? All you get is conscription.

She repeated the sentiment softly, watching Alice’s expression sour.

"It’s foolish," Alice muttered, her voice carrying that familiar note of disdain. "If demons strike again, a place like this will fall instantly."

’Ah... classic Alice.’

Amelia slipped closer and gently overlapped her hand with Alice’s, as if to calm the storm gathering in her lady’s heart.

As the two walked further down the market street, voices rose above the clamor of merchants hawking wares.

"...I’m telling you, the taxes inside the walls will bleed us dry! Out here, we can at least keep our earnings."

"And when demons come? Will you buy your safety with coins you hoarded? Idiot."

The two men glared at each other, faces flushed from both ale and frustration. A small crowd had gathered, half agreeing, half sneering.

One of the women, basket on her hip, spat into the dirt. "The city takes our money and gives what in return? Empty promises. The guards don’t care about us, and the nobles only remember our names when they want more."

A heavy silence followed her words.

Alice’s jaw tightened. She opened her mouth, but Amelia squeezed her hand before she could step forward.

"Don’t," Amelia whispered, her tone soft but firm.

"But—"

"They’ll only see you as another noble lecturing them," Amelia murmured. "Even if you speak truth, it won’t reach them."

Alice bit back her words, her indignation simmering beneath her composed exterior. Her gaze swept over the villagers—some with hardened expressions, some already slipping away into the night, as though tired of repeating the same arguments.

Amelia studied Alice’s face from the corner of her eye. Her lady’s anger was righteous, but also dangerously transparent.

’She doesn’t yet understand how far desperation can twist people...’

Aloud, Amelia said with a faint smile, "They’re not all wrong, you know. To them, safety is a luxury. A gamble. Not everyone can afford the peace you take for granted."

Alice fell silent, her lips pressing into a thin line.

For a moment, only the sound of the market lanterns flickering in the evening breeze filled the space between them.